The morning begins well before dawn for the tireless workers of Tokyo’s legendary Tsukiji Fish Market, the largest seafood market in the world. A city within a city, it is divided into two distinct zones, each pulsing with its own energy and rhythm.

At the heart of it lies the Inner Market, a maze of bustling activity where the world-famous tuna auctions take place each morning at 5 a.m. Sharp voices echo across the cold, fluorescent-lit hall as buyers in rubber boots and fleece vests bid fiercely for the day's freshest catch. Giant slabs of tuna lie like sculptures on the concrete floor, their tails sliced to reveal the deep red meat prized by chefs around the globe.

Beyond this lies the Outer Market, a vibrant tangle of narrow laneways lined with tiny stalls and family-run shops. Here, vendors unload crates of glistening seafood: spiny crabs, silvery sardines, octopus tentacles curling in trays of ice. The air is thick with the sharp tang of salt and fish, mingling with the pungent haze of diesel from the motorized carts weaving through the crowd. Styrofoam boxes squeak underfoot, horns blare, and a constant hum of shouting, laughter, and negotiation fills the air. It’s a sensory overload, chaotic, electric, and undeniably alive.